


close the space between us now

by RPFTrashAccount



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29445564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RPFTrashAccount/pseuds/RPFTrashAccount
Summary: Mark had always imagined his first kiss with Ethan - if it ever happened, which was a big if - would be explosive.As it turned out, he was wrong.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 12
Kudos: 132





	close the space between us now

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I was like "okay, I don't write RPF, but let me just write ONE Crankiplier fic to get it out of my system"? Haha, oops, here's a second one! And I have, like, three more WIPs. Oooooops.
> 
> TW: panic attacks

Mark had always imagined his first kiss with Ethan - if it ever happened, which was a big _if_ \- would be explosive. 

It happened in dozens of different ways in his fantasies: maybe Mark would be trying to wrestle Ethan's phone out of his hands before he could tweet an embarrassing picture of him, and he'd end up pinning Ethan to the floor, hands above his head, laughter fading from both of their faces as they realized what a compromising position they were in.

Maybe they'd have a stupid argument over a collab video, the stress of their workloads spilling over into increasingly frustrated words, until Ethan slammed Mark up against the wall and shut him up with a hard, biting kiss.

Maybe it would happen after they released a project they were incredibly proud of, getting caught up in the moment of celebration as they watched the positive reactions pour in from their communities, giddy excitement turning into a desperate collision of lips and hands and bodies.

No matter the scenario, he always imagined that it would be heated, intense; years' worth of simmering sexual tension finally boiling over as they kissed like they were trying to devour each other.

As it turned out, he was wrong.

\---

It happened at 3:00 in the morning, on the floor of Ethan's recording room.

Mark had been sleeping over at Ethan's place after a late night of video games and laughter, tossing ideas for future collaborations back and forth until Mark pointed out that Ethan was supposed to be taking a month-long break to focus on himself, not work. That was the whole point of tonight; to hang out as friends, not colleagues.

Of course, Mark knew that was easier said than done. He was, if possible, even worse than Ethan when it came to turning off the voice in his head that was constantly telling him to keep working, _keep working_.

Ethan had smiled sheepishly and relaxed, and conversation had shifted away from work again. Mark noticed the tension visibly leave Ethan's posture, and his heart ached at how badly Ethan clearly needed this break.

Which was why, when Mark had woken up on the couch in the middle of the night and saw a faint light emitting from the stairway down to Ethan's recording room, he'd been concerned.

He got up and wandered into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water as he pondered whether to go check on him. He couldn't hear any noise, which probably meant he wasn't recording or streaming; Mark knew from experience that he was usually loud enough for at least _some_ noise to make it through the soundproofing.

On the other hand, he could be studying his analytics, or poring over the emails he wasn't supposed to be checking. It wasn't Mark's place to _stop_ him from working, but a quick check-in couldn't hurt.

He set his half-empty glass down on the counter and headed downstairs.

The door at the bottom was ajar. Mark knocked anyway. There was silence for a second, then a strained, "Come in, I guess."

"Hey," Mark said quietly, pushing the door open, "I was just coming down to see if you were alright down here."

Ethan's body language told him no. He was sitting on the floor, shoulders tight and hunched, arms wrapped so tightly around himself that his knuckles were turning white where they gripped the fabric of his faded t-shirt. His eyes were closed, breathing loud and shallow; he looked well on his way to a full-blown panic attack.

_Shit_.

Now, fifteen minutes later, Mark was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him, rubbing gentle circles on his back as he heaved out shaky, uneven breaths. He sat with his knees pulled to his chest, arms locked around them in a death grip as he buried his face, hiding tear streaks that Mark had seen anyway. Mark hadn't managed to find out what was wrong yet; the moment he'd sat down, Ethan had started to cry, silent tears that streamed down his cheeks accompanied by gasping breaths that sounded like they were being ripped from his chest against his will.

He'd calmed down since then; his breathing seemed, if not normal yet, at least under control again.

"Hey," Mark said at last. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

Ethan shrugged, shoulders shaking a little as he did.

"Is it a work thing?"

Ethan finally raised his head a little bit, nodding. His eyes were cast downward, staring at the floor in front of them.

"It's kinda stupid," he said, voice hoarse.

Mark shook his head insistently. "If it's making you this upset, it's not stupid, man."

Ethan wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands, letting out another shuddering breath. "I'm stressed. I feel… I don't know. Paralyzed, I guess." He sighed, finally releasing the death grip his arms had around his knees and shifting into a cross-legged position to match Mark's. That was a good sign, Mark thought.

Ethan cleared his throat, continuing. "I just - I had so many ideas for things I wanted to do on my channel after Unus Annus ended. Big things. And now I look at those ideas and they just - overwhelm me, you know? I don't know where to start. I don't even know if I can pull any of them off." The last sentence was barely above a whisper.

"Hey," Mark said softly. "Don't talk like that. Listen - you're one of the most talented, creative, hardworking people I've ever met. You can do anything you set your mind to, man."

He gently placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder. When Ethan leaned in to the touch, Mark wrapped an arm around him instead, pulling him into a side-hug as he continued. "You just gotta pick an idea and start. The rest will fall into place. You've got this." He smiled, pulling back to meet Ethan's watery gaze. "And if you need help with any of it, I'm here. None of my favorite projects would ever have happened without your help. Let me return the favor."

Ethan managed a shaky smile in return. "Thanks. Really - thank you. I… You're right."

"I always am," Mark said, adopting an exaggeratedly wise tone.

"Shut the fuck up," Ethan replied, and he was actually smiling now. Even with red-rimmed eyes and tears still clinging to his lashes, he was beautiful when he smiled. Mark's heart ached.

He didn't think; he just reached out and pressed a gentle hand to the side of Ethan's face, swiping away the tear tracks glistening on his cheek with a stroke of his thumb. Ethan's smile faded, and the air between them felt different suddenly, somehow heavy and fragile at the same time. Mark's breath caught in his throat, as if even exhaling could shatter it. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Ethan's; wouldn't want to even if he could. Ethan's eyes were wide, nervous, _searching_.

_Yes_ , Mark tried to say with his own eyes. _Please_.

Ethan moved a fraction of an inch closer, chin tilting invitingly.

Mark let his eyes slip shut, heart thundering in his ears, and closed the remaining space between them.

When their lips met, it wasn't the heated, desperate embrace Mark had always imagined. It was tentative, almost delicate; stuttering breath ghosted over parted lips, followed by a gentle, lingering press. When they parted, Mark pressed his forehead gently to Ethan's, the tips of their noses brushing together.

"If this is a new pep talk technique you're trying out," Ethan breathed, "it really works."

Mark let out a laugh that was loud enough to startle them both in the quiet room. They both dissolved into giggles, and Mark pulled Ethan into a clumsy, still-seated hug. Ethan pressed his face into Mark's neck as he laughed, warm breath against his skin and strong arms winding around his waist. It felt _right_.

When their giggles subsided, Ethan pulled back just enough to look Mark in the eyes. They were still sparkling with residual mirth, but his expression was cautious.

"Um," he said softly. "For real, though. Was that... y'know, just a way to make me feel better? Not saying it didn't work, because holy _shit_ , but-"

Mark kissed him again. It was firm this time; if the last kiss had been a question, this one was a reassurance.

"Listen," Mark said when he pulled away, "I've been dying to kiss you for... god, I don't even know. A _year_ , at least. So, uh, cheering you up was more of a bonus. I'm glad it worked, though."

Ethan grinned. His smile was fucking _radiant_.

"Awesome," he said. "And, uh, for the record, I've wanted to kiss you since I fucking _met_ you, dude."

"It's not a competition!" Mark protested, elbowing him playfully. Ethan giggled, finding Mark's hand and tangling their fingers together. Mark rubbed his thumb back and forth along the side of Ethan's, gentle and unhurried.

Mark chuckled softly.

"What?" Ethan asked, squeezing his hand.

"Nothing," Mark said, shaking his head fondly. "It's just... our first kiss was different than I imagined it would be."

"Yeah?" A grin played across Ethan's lips. "You imagine it a lot?"

"Dude, you have no idea," Mark said, shaking his head. "All the fucking time."

Ethan actually blushed a little at that. It was adorable. "So what _did_ you think it would be like?"

Mark shrugged one shoulder, smiling. "I dunno. Less crying, probably. And, uh, I figured it would be more..."

"Horny?" Ethan suggested.

Mark laughed. "I was going to say 'passionate,' but yes. More, you know, moaning and furiously groping each other."

Ethan leaned closer, smirking as he slid a hand along Mark's thigh. "That can be arranged."

Mark's mood shifted so quickly that he almost felt dizzy.

"Oh," he breathed, eyes fixing on Ethan's lips. "Oh, okay."

He wrapped his arms around Ethan's waist, pulling him into his lap almost effortlessly. Ethan straddled him, settling easily atop his thighs, like he belonged there. His eyes were dark, the ghost of a smile still on his lips.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," Mark replied, hands settling on Ethan's hips.

Ethan slid his hands into Mark's hair and pulled him into a kiss.

It was hot and messy, open mouths pressing together sloppily. Ethan's tongue dragged along Mark's bottom lip, and Mark chased it with his own, pressing deep into Ethan's mouth. He slid his hands downward to cup Ethan's ass and squeeze it, marvelling at how perfectly it fit in the palms of his hands. Ethan moaned softly into his mouth. Mark was half-hard already, and he rolled his hips up against Ethan.

"Fuck," Ethan breathed, nipping at Mark's tongue as he pulled back. His cheeks were flushed, pupils wide. He slid his hands up under Mark's t-shirt, palms warm against his skin as he tugged it off over his head. There was open, shameless desire written on his face as his eyes raked over Mark's newly-exposed torso, and he pressed forward so Mark could feel the hard line of his dick pressed against his hip.

"So," he teased. "Is this more like what you imagined?"

"Yeah," Mark said breathlessly, grinning. "Yeah, this is definitely how it usually goes down in my mind." He paused, then added, "Not that there was anything wrong with our actual first kiss, because it was - fucking _incredible_ \- Ethan - _fuck_ -"

Mark could feel Ethan's smile against his skin as he sucked a hickey into his collarbone.


End file.
